


Dance with the Devil

by morthality



Category: Supernatural, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Dancer Hoseok, Dancer Jimin, Demon!AU, M/M, demon!yoongi, honestly there's gonna be a load of ships in this, lowkey jihope in the beginning, prepare for jimin suffering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2018-11-21 13:05:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11358114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morthality/pseuds/morthality
Summary: Jimin harbored a burning passion for dancing. He started off with hip hop and basic stuff when he was a kid, he tried out various styles, various body languages, trained his footwork, worked out a lot. He had a dream, and it was his only dream ever, to become a dancer, to capture the gaze of the people near him. He wanted to express himself through that. And everyone thought he could. But one day, Jimin made a tiny mistake."Supernatural Beings - A Guide by Kim Namjoon""Do you trust me?""No.""Smart man.""I... I want to dance."Jimin had shaken hands with the devil, and his future is sooner to break than he thinks.





	1. Diamond on a landmine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beautiful_crimes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautiful_crimes/gifts), [Mincytea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mincytea/gifts).



"I'll stay right here, okay?", Hoseok asks, looking worn out, but lightly grabs Jimins arm in a reassuring way.

"It'll work out, Minnie. Fighting!"

And with a last weak smile, Jimin follows the nurse through the grey doors.

Hoseok sits down and sighs.

* * *

 

After hours, the doctor and two nurses exit and Hoseok stands up in the blink of an eye.

He doesn't even need to say anything, the doctor flips through the pages of her clipboard, clears her throat and glances at the nurse beside her.

"Well, I already talked to Mr. Park. He is aware that in his current condition, his ankle will need at least two months - if not longer - to heal, the bone is incredibly damaged, very severe... You may go see him now, he probably needs a bit of a cheer-up but let him sleep soon."

Hoseok sighs once again, rubs his tired eyes with his fingers; oh Jimin is probably furious right now.

The brown haired boy's eyes meet the clock above the grey doors, it is well past 12 am and Hoseok will have to take a taxi home before he falls asleep in the middle of driving.

The blonde nurse who suddenly appeared in front of him gently smiles up at him and indicates with a nod of her head to lead the way to Jimin's room - not that Hoseok would need her help anyways, he's been to the hospital countless times because of his ankle.

He'd just ask for Jimin's room number once he gets to that level - but no, the nurse keeps smiling that eye-smile, Hoseok suddenly feels cold and watched but follows her nonetheless.

* * *

 

After an awkward, uncomfortable elevator ride in complete silence, Hoseok tails that bouncing blonde ponytail (apparently that smile of hers was nailed to her face as if she was a doll) to the patient rooms, crossing several hallways that would look the same in a zombie apocalypse - few people are awake right now.

The walls of the hallways are painted grey and light orange, whoever came up with that probably needs medical help as well.

Hoseok scoffs silently at the drawings of the children who've been here, shudders at the sight of a clown painting - he hates those.

At last, the ponytail stops bouncing, and Hoseok almost bumps into her small figure, she - Hoseok takes a quick glance at her name tag, her name is Kim Chanmi - opens the door to the room 6-B.

Hoseok is weirdly anxious, his hands are sweating, he doesn't actually have the nerves to calm down a furious Jimin, he doesn't have the nerves for anything, all he wants is to fall in his bed and sleep for an eternity, but the nurse does not go in, she holds the door open for Hoseok with an anticipating look on her face.

He sends a small polite smile to her as he entered the room, rubbing his hands on his jeans while he passes the tiny bathroom, and this room is covered in light orange and grey too, but it magically looks better on bedsheets and curtains.

You'd think Jimin would have drifted to sleep by now; probably reliving the pain of landing incorrectly on the floor of his flat.

He just wanted to get that one move right, just once more and then he'd go to bed, but no.

It was actually a bit weird, Jimin has never been injured like this, he just overworks himself until his whole body is shaking and he can't get up anymore, but never did he once break a bone.

There's a first time for everything, right?

Hoseok lifts his eyes from his shoes to meet Jimin's stare - intimidating.

Even though he probably doesn't mean to look like that.

He had a rough day.

"I thought you'd be sleeping already. Didn't they give you any morphium?",Hoseok questions, trying to lift the mood like always but he's just so tired.

Being the hope and smiling sunshine of all the people you cherish can be very exhausting from time to time.

Jimin smiled bitterly, eyes wandering in hatred and disgust over the cast on his leg.

"They did give me painkillers. And pills. I don't know why I'm not tired. I should be, right?", he pressed, he can still feel the broken bones, even though his legs felt numb at this point.

"You can go home, Hobi", Hoseok smiled slightly at his nickname.

That was a good sign.

"I know you're tired. Get a taxi, please." Hoseok smiles down at him, retreating slowly, "You know I'll be here tomorrow. Get some sleep as well, Jiminie." And so he hired that cab.

* * *

 


	2. Pocketful of Dreams

On the next day, when Jimin wakes up, he is still pissed, to say the least. Understatement of the year.   
He probably spent the whole morning sending hateful glares at his ankle, and he noticed that the doctor isn't telling him everything he wants to know. But he doesn't ask, because deep down, he knows it already.   
And Jimin swears to God, he won't give up on dancing. It's the one thing, the only thing he was ever really passionate about. 

Since he was 6, he got supported by his mother, she even used to come home very late and often overworked herself. "I'll make you proud", were Jimins last words to her, before her grip on his hand loosened and her hand landed lifeless on the bedsheet.

That was about 5 years ago, and Jimin is still very determined to follow his promise. Which means, he'll sacrifice everything to dance. Even if it meant selling his soul.

As Hoseok arrives, at 10 AM with a warm smile and a bag filled with pastries, Jimin is in a slightly better mood. But as soon as they finish talking and eating, the doctor comes in and shoos Hoseok away - in a friendly, polite way of course - and while the nurse next to her is cleaning up the room a bit and preparing Jimin's infusion, the doctor goes through her clipboard once more. 

"How long will I have to stay?"   
The woman's small smile falters, disappears at last, and her eyes fixate on Jimin's.   
"Mister Park. As I already told you, I have consulted the other doctors last night to have a look at your case. And I know this will probably be very difficult to accept but we agreed that it would be best if you set dancing aside. It is likely that you will not be able to get back into dancing again." 

Jimin swears he can hear a shattering sound in his ears.   
"I understand.", Jimin says, and he does not understand at all. Is his foot really that broken? How can doctors save cancer patients but not a damned broken foot? Are these even specialists?

"We will need to keep an eye on you for about 2 more weeks. After that you'll be dismissed, with your crutches. As long as no miracle happens."  
What kind of doctor is she?   
Who talks like that?

She exits the room, Hoseok returns, and the nurse finishes connecting the infusion bag with the needle in Jimin's arm. "This sucks."  
Hoseok gives him an apologetic look and sits on the edge of his bed.   
"We'll find a way out. Right now we have to focus on healing this shit so you can at least go home."

Jimin knows arguing about it with his best friend doesn't get him anywhere. So he just sighs in defeat and changes the topic.


	3. White Sparrows

[a month later]

It is the middle of the night when the open window beside Jimin's bed creaks from a wave of the wind. A shadowy figure enters the room and stands in front of him, looking down at the sweating male, the blanket kicked off and his limbs, considering Jimin is sleeping, weirdly angled.  
The figure smiles down at him, but doesn't intend to do anything else. They're just watching over him.

The next morning, when Jimin wakes up from a ring on the door, he's pissed. But he's always pissed. Especially when he barely gets any sleep and can't get rid of his damned nightmares. 

Jimin rakes his body out of his blanket and stretches one leg into the cool air, soon followed by the other but his right leg never touches the ground. A metal cane replaces the foot and Jimin finally stands up, lowly grumbling profanities as the bell rings the third time. 

He shortly glances out of the window - bright sunshine. Great. Just the perfect weather to die, Jimin thought and yells as he makes his way through his small flat, getting angrier everytime the sound of the doorbell rings in his sensitive ears, and he looks through the door spy just to be greeted with the face of an angel - not literally, of course.

"Go away, Jungkook."  
"Don't you want to build a snowman?", the younger one chuckled about his own joke from the other side of the door and stuck a finger into the door spy.  
"I told you to fuck off, Jeon."  
"But I haven't seen you in two months! You won't even let Hoseok in, and you never leave the house! All you eat is take-out!"  
"...did you spy on me?"  
No reply. Jimin gets enraged.  
"Jeon Jungkook, I asked you a God damned question. Did you fucking spy on me?"  
"You weren't answering my calls, nor my texts; anything could've happened to you! Your corpse could be rotting away in there and no one would know! I haven't even seen your face in so long, please just open the door for me."

Jimin does open the door, but only a bit, so that Jungkook can see his face. The younger one is shocked. Eyes cold as stone and dead as grave, they're staring at him, or into his soul, who knows. Jungkook doesn't say anything, he just breathes.

"Are we done now?"  
"No, Jimin", Jungkook pleads with his eyes, but no emotion is in Jimin's face and it breaks Jungkook's heart.  
"Why won't you talk to me?"

"I am talking to you."  
"I can barely see your-"  
"Whatever, Jungkook, I'm done.  
Don't spy on me again. I'll call the cops on you."  
Jimin closes the door of his appartement, sighing quietly through his nose. Why won't they leave him alone?  
"Jimin, the second I'm gone, you know we won't see each other again if you don't get your head out of your arse", Jungkook still pleads, but loud and angry this time, banging his fist against the door. 

Jimin walks into his room, closing all windows on his way, letting the sunshields down and falls onto his beloved bed. A few more hours of sleep until he'll hit the books.

After he got out of the hospital, Jimin almost gave up on his leg, but as long as he keeps having those nightmares, he won't let go.  
First he searched through probably the whole Internet for any kinds of biological stuff to heal his leg, then he went into chemical stuff but didn't find anything, he even tried to find some kind of hippie acupuncture or herbs or _anything_, but it's as if he was cursed. He doesn't get it. Everyday he goes through every chapter, every sentence of the whole section of biology books at the local library, but he just can't find anything helpful. 

Today, he comes in, with a cup of coffee in his small hand, greets the black-haired librarian with a not-too-friendly nod and sits at the very back of the gigantic room. No one else is here, considering most functioning human beings were working at this time.  
He sits in the corner, behind and next to him were bookshelves with the oldest books of the whole library, probably of the whole country. He's gone through them too, he knows all of their titles but he hasn't really read them. 

Since his research is inofficially over and he is nearing another session of contemplating his life, he grabs the nearest book without actually looking. It seems to be a pretty old journal, but not old enough to actually be in this section. And, a journal? Whose life is interesting enough to write something like that? 

He opens the first page, since there isn't a title or anything on the red leather cover, and he is greeted by neatly written words in black ink.  
"Supernatural Beings - A Guide by Kim Namjoon, born 12. 8. 1975, died 6. 6. 2006" 

The date of the person's death is in red ink, and the handwriting looks different. Jimin was never really keen on fiction, at least he thought so, but this book sparks something in him, and he might as well call it interest. 

He turns the page - he actually expected some kind of prologue, some kind of ominous warning, but the first thing he spots is a drawing of a mouth. An opened one, showing a row of fangs. above, in red letters, it says "Vampire". Jimin scoffs.  
"I swear if I read something about sparkling skin in this I'm going to quit", he mumbles under his breath and starts reading.


	4. Be Quiet

Jimin has been reading that journal for hours now. He's gone through almost the whole thing and he's sucked in completely, only slipping out of his focus when he hears a sneeze coming from the old man behind the bookshelf he was sitting at. After the sixth sneeze, Jimin can't take it anymore, he needs silence. He walks up to the librarian at the counter, throws (for the actual first time) a short glance at his name tag - Yoongi, what a nice name - and places the book down in front of him.

"I'd like to lend this book, please." The other smiles at him, looks at the book and his mouth forms an "o" shape. "This is one of my own, how did you find it?"

"What? Uh, it was just there, in the corner, where the tables are." "Ah, I must have taken it to work and it got under the others. My bad."

"Oh, sorry, I should have realized, it doesn't even have the library stamp on it-" "You can lend it anyways, though. I trust you enough to bring it back, You don't have to pay or anything."

"That's really nice, thank you. Is two weeks okay?" "Sure", Yoongi doesn't stop smiling and slowly Jimin is getting the creeps. "Alright, then I'll see you soon!"

Jimin thanks him again and walks home, journal in his bag.

The face of the librarian is stuck in his head. Those fierce, dark brown, almost black eyes make him shudder and he feels ecstatic and anxious at the same time. He was being weirdly nice to him as well, considering the last conversation Jimin had with Jungkook didn't go very well. But he doesn't have any nerve for him, and he's at a point where he just doesn't care how many friends he loses. He just wants to be left alone.

 

* * *

 

 

When he arrives at his flat, he fishes the keys out of the pocket of his jeans, tries to unlock the door but - oh, it's already open. Jimin's eyebrows knit together and he slowly pushes the door open.

His messy appartement is cleaned and he already has a guess on who broke into his home. Faint music comes from the kitchen and he can hear the tap running, also it sounds like dishes clanking together - "Hoseok?"

His orange haired friend throws him a toothy grin and turns the tap off, dries the remaining coffee cups and places them in the shelf above the kitchen counter.

"You should keep your second key elsewhere. The fake rock besides the door, that's just too obvious." "Fuck off." "You should be more friendly to your cleaning lady, young man," Hoseok jokingly taunts a finger at him. Jimin turns and walks into his bedroom, closing and locking the door behind him, taking a few steps and falling face forward into his mattress. Hoseok knocks.

"I told you to fuck off, Hoseok." "Don't call me that, Minnie. I know you still have a heart. " A short silence. "Jungkook called me earlier." Jimin groans into his pillow.

"He thinks you need some help, bro", Jimin gets angry for the second time this day. "I don't need help. Especially not from some stupid therapist."

"That's not what I'm saying. Remember how you used to go to that small coffee shop on the corner of the street? What about the park? You liked feeding the ducks, Jimin. It was so cute. I just think you should keep up with your old habits, you know? Hell, go to a bar if you want but don't let your life go to waste now. I know it's not easy, but it will get better, if you stay on your damn feet. Not literally though, please use your crutches."

Jimin doesn't answer. Hoseok sighs audibly and retreats from the bedroom door. "Just... think about it, okay? I have to go now, work is calling."

And with that, he is gone. And silence finally fills Jimin's head.

 

* * *

 

 

The fried crispy chicken Jimin ordered is long gone when Jimin steps into the small shower, letting the cold water rinse his body. His thoughts are wild again and he feels his own heartbeat crawling up his spine to his neck and into his head until all he can hear is thumping.

Freshly washed, he sits down in his comfy chair in front of the computer where the old book lies, breathes out loud and takes it in his hands. The last thing he remembered reading about was the Wendigo. He finds the page and turns, greeted with a small drawing of a pair of eyes, both black. Pure black.

Jimin swears he can feel a light breeze grazing his naked skin, and he looks up and around the room, especially behind him, he feels a little watched now. _It's probably just paranoia_ , he thinks but the uneasiness doesn't go away and he places his chair so that his back is facing the wall.

 _Demon_ it says, next to the eyes, at the top center of the brown paper.

  * _direct opposites to angels_
  * _created from human souls by torture in hell_
  * _require a vessel to walk the earth, enter the body forcibly_
  * _can smoke in and out of their bodies_
  * _Princes of Hell: Ramiel, Dagon, Azazel, Asmodeus_
  * _powers like possession, superhuman strength, immortality, invulnerability, super stamina, biokinesis, invisibility, voice mimicry_
  * _exorcism sends them back to hell_
  * _cure?? (Men of Letters?)_
  * _weaknesses: exorcism, devil's trap, holy water, hex bags, iron, salt, angel blade, demon blade_
  * _Crossroad demons: make deals for souls, ten years to live until hellhounds come after you, they have red eyes_



Jimin has never in his life read the bible and has been to church only when he was young, with his mum, but a few months after she died he stopped.

 


	5. Killing Me Softly

The jazz bar Jimin walks into smells a lot like things he doesn't like - the smoke of every cigarette this place has ever seen, strong alcohol, and the poor attempt to overlay everything with mango air refresher - but he goes in anyways. He decided to come here after they had taken his cast off a week ago, after nearly three months.

He can finally walk without that stupid crutch now.

The room is poorly lit up by a few yellow neon lights that don't exactly fit the setting, and the old, brown bar counter is the first thing Jimin maneuvers himself to, through the small mass of people.

He manages to get a seat at the very end of the long wooden counter, and waits for the pretty barkeeper to notice his drinkless presence.

 

"What can I get you, honey?", the young brunette asks with a polite, welcoming smile and a bit of a southern accent.

"Just a beer for now, please." "Coming right up!", the young man chirps, turns and Jimin has the urge to lean back and relax his back muscles, but he remembers that the brown leather barstool doesn't let him, so he props his elbow up and puts his head in his palm instead.

His bored gaze wanders over the few dancing people, too drunk to really do anything else than sway around with each other to the soft jazz song in the background.

Jimin fights the urge to move his torso when his favourite Ella Fitzgerald song from a few years ago comes on.

What he can't hold back, is a yawn. His hopes are high for a long night and a late passing-out on his bed, without any dreams or nightmares at all. He hates both. But there's not a lot in this world that he does not hate.

 

A few hours later, Jimin begins to slur the words that he exchanges with the barkeeper; he learns that his name is Taehyung, that his friends call him Vante for some reason, and that he has a dog named Soonshim and a cat named Kkanji, he lives alone and that he once loved an angel too much - but Jimin is almost sure these things will be forgotten by the time he comes home.

He doesn't really feel tired anymore, for the first time in weeks, months even.

The air in the room is still thick with the smell of smoke, but there are noticeably less people in here.

A person sits down next to Jimin but he doesn't spare a single glance until they start speaking. "A Gin Tonic, please. Good evening, Taehyung."

Taehyung throws a devilish smirk at him and nods. A shudder goes down Jimin's spine.

He can't really help but stare at the raven black bangs surrounding the pale face of the man with the silky voice beside him. He knows who he is.

But he wouldn't start up a chat with him, looking at the brown bottle in his hands instead. Jimin doesn't know what to think.

He didn't expect to see the librarian so soon again, after he returned the book to him, right before he went to the hospital.  
  


Soon, the relief rushes in as Yoongi turns his head and flashes Jimin an equally devilish smirk. Jimin shudders again. He can hear the song change to Nina Simone's "Sinnerman" and laughs internally at the irony. If he didn't know better, he'd think Yoongi was sin on legs. But, did he even know better?

Jimin's face heats up due to the alcohol flushing through his veins.

"Fancy seeing you here. Didn't take you for the jazz type, let alone an alcoholic." Jimin frowns a little at the bluntness of the other man, but takes it as a joke since Yoongi is still smiling at him.

"I'm not an alcoholic", he said and takes a big sip from his third beer this night. His whole body begins to feel warm and the muscles in his back and shoulders relax a little more.

Yoongi downs half of his drink in a few gulps while Jimin stares at him bewildered. "You'd be amazed how much alcohol I can take."

 

One of them strikes up a new conversation soon, and Jimin starts feeling more comfortable around the strikingly handsome man, but also exposed under Yoongis dark eyes and seemingly random touches on his shoulder or arm.

They laugh and he feels like he's known him for ages, he doesn't even deny the vital attraction he feels for the other male, but he does blame the alcohol for most of it.

After about an hour of talking, Taehyung occasionally throwing in a comment and a new drink, Jimin has the right side of his face in his hand, cheeks flushed as they can be, and he has an almost lovestruck smile on his face. His eyes crinkle and twinkle and he laughs with his teeth shown - something he hasn't done in a long while.

The way Yoongi flirts with him was merciless, shameful even. Jimin isn't done giggling about one of his compliments, Yoongi already serves him another. Jimin doesn't want to admit it but it makes him feel much more appreciated than anytime else in his life.

Much more than the times he went on stage and got a round of applause, and he was satisfied for a few hours, before losing himself in another choreography again.

Much more when he got a good feedback from his dance teacher, which was just a small nod and a "Well done."

Much more than the times he slided down the bathroom wall, almost choking on the muffled sobs coming out of his throat, when Hoseok came in, because he always came when Jimin needed him most, and holding him until Jimin is able to breathe again.

Yoongi tops all that, with a single smile, and the exact words Jimin wants to hear. And Jimin knows that Yoongi is just trying to cheer him up, but he ignores the itching in his stomach he gets every time Yoongi just looks at anything else that isn't Jimin's face. Because all Jimin looks at his Yoongis face. His  _ stupid _ face. That  _ damned _ smirk. Those cursed eyes swallowing him whole like the void.

When the first strums of the guitar fill Jimin's ears, he knows the band is here, and they're playing Frank Sinatra.

Yoongi notices the shift in Jimin's eyes, the twinkle growing more intense, his pupils dilating as Jimin looks back at him from the small stage with the piano on it.

Yoongi could read him like an open book, he slides down his high barstool, smiled at Jimin's frown - was he scared he'd leave? - and offers his hand to the only slightly shorter man.

The other looks at him confused for a second, but then breaks out in another blush, and exhales sharply when his hand touches Yoongis, pulling him to the other side of the room, Jimin only sees him and hears only the music, blanking out everything and everyone else.

Yoongis hands are weirdly cold, but Jimin doesn't think - he just feels himself slightly pushing against the other people, almost stumbling over something, and in the middle of the room, right in front of the live band, Yoongi stops almost abruptly.

The singer on stage looks ridiculously like the actual Frank Sinatra, and has a very similar voice.Jimin notices that only later, right now, Yoongis right hand was laced with his left one, and Yoongis back was towards the stage in case Jimin wanted to look at the band, but he doesn't.

Yoongis left hand slips under Jimin's opened flannel shirt, and is placed on Jimin's hips, on top of the black Jack Daniel's shirt.

Usually, Jimin would be lost in memories at this moment, to this song, even though it's almost halfway through already, but he can't tear his gaze away from his dance partner.

They aren't dancing, actually. Yoongi can, but he knows about Jimin's leg that still needs healing, and the amount of alcohol in Jimin's pumping veins is enough to make him stumble if he walks on his own.

Yoongi is just stepping from one foot to the other, slightly going in a small circle, pushing Jimin up against him so that they don't crash into other dancers - more like swayers, really.

Jimin feels  _ infatuated _ . That is the only word on his mind. That, and  _ Yoongi _ . And  _ sin _ . And  _ this man is impossible _ .

A shudder goes down his spine again when he feels Yoongis hand move on to his smaller back, pulling him a little bit away from the others.

He's in trance. He's not even thinking anymore. He's ecstatic.

The song ends, and the band rearranges their instruments for a few seconds, Jimin tears his gaze away to look at the pretty, polished piano in the corner.

**Wise men say, only fools rush in**

_ That's impossible _ , Jimin thinks,  _ the singer is the same, but it sounds exactly like Elvis Presley. _

**But I can't help falling in love with you**

**Shall I stay, would it be a sin**

Yoongi pulls him back, even closer than before, grins down at him - down at him? he's only a few centimeters taller than Jimin - and for a quick glance his eyes flick to Jimin's lips, and Jimin could swear they looked almost black.

**if I can't help falling in love with you**

**like a river flows surely to the sea**

**Darling, so it goes, some things are meant to be**

_ Maybe this was meant to be, too _ , Jimin catches himself thinking, and he cringes at himself for sounding so cheesy.

Yoongi smiles wider, as if he knows what's going on in Jimin's brain, and Jimin would bet that he does.

**Take my hand, take my whole life too**

They're still swaying in a circle, Jimin's hand on Yoongis left arm, because he doesn't know where else to place it, he's never danced like this, with a partner.

**for I can't help falling in love with you**

The music fades too soon, a quiet drum appearing instead, from the boxes at the corners of the room, and Jimin pulls away slightly.

"Do you wanna go for a walk?" Yoongi's voice sounds so loud in Jimin's head he flinches a little, but nods nevertheless, turns and slowly heads for the exit doors, Yoongi tailing after him.

The cold night air feels like a slap to Jimin's face, but he doesn't shiver. It was May. He was still wearing flannel.

He slightly limps, his left foot exhausted, he whistles a small melody he's picked up from somewhere, and waits up for Yoongi, who is sliding into his black coat.

"Isn't it a bit late to wear coats?", Jimin says more to himself than to the other, and Yoongi chuckles. "Not if you don't sweat."

Jimin hums in wonder. "I'd like that too." But then he remembers that he hasn't been sweating much since the last time he practiced. Which was too long ago.

He stopped counting the days once he realized he would never dance again. And he's right.

Yoongi lays an arm around Jimin's shoulders, pulling him a little bit closer so Jimin gets a bit of body heat from him.

Jimin leads the way, even though he doesn't actually know where he's going. When they're standing on a bridge, Yoongi stops.

"Look, Jimin. The city lights."

And he looks. In his drunken state he's sure he has never seen the city - at least not at night. It feels different, new, like the colours are touching the water surface uneasily. He wants to savour the moment and lightly cursed in his head for not bringing his small camera, and his phone would barely be able to take the big moon above the city.

Not many stars are visible, but when the two of them look up more, they see a small flash. Jimin lightly gasps. "A shooting star!" He is acting almost childish now, but Yoongi smiles at him.

"If you could wish for anything, what would it be?"

"You're not supposed to tell the wish you made for a shooting star. Bad luck." Jimin is almost pouting.

"Come on, you can tell me. I surely won't tell anyone."

Jimin giggles for no reason but stops soon, a gloomy expression on his face. "I.. I want to dance."

Yoongi's gaze is apologetic, but there's something else glinting in his eyes.

"Can I... Can I kiss you?", Jimin blurts out. 

"If you do, I'll have to kill you after."

"It would probably be worth it."

Yoongi almost hesitates. He isn't supposed to be this involved in Jimin's life. Once the sun goes up, he'll be gone.

Yoongi quickly pushes himself closer to the other man, almost eager to kiss him. Somehow, Jimin knows this will be the last time they see each other, and he doesn't want to let go yet.

"Do you trust me?"

There's that shiver going down Jimin's spine again as Yoongis hand lightly touches Jimin and plays with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"No." Jimin can't read Yoongi. He doesn't know what he's thinking and he actually doesn't even know that much about the raven haired mystery man.

But here they stand, and Jimin's heart is beating so hard he can't breathe properly.

"Smart man." He feels complimented again, even though Yoongi meant it differently.

And with that, Yoongi leans in, and Jimin wants to move so badly but it's like the other put him under a spell.

The moment their lips touch, the wind picks up speed a little, Jimin immediately closes his eyes and sighs through his nose shortly. His hands grab Yoongis coat, pulling him in, and Yoongi puts both his hands on Jimin's jaw, holding his face in place.

Jimin was sold.

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
